fic: A Single Step (R) Prologue
Title: A Single Step
Author: bandearg_rois
Fandom: Harry Potter/Gundam Wing
Warning: Slash, at least later on
Summary: A Journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. For Harry, however, that step is quite a bit larger than others. And sometimes, that step could be impossible without help.
Author's Note: I started a storyline last night, and this was supposed to be that story, however it morphed on me, into this. I hope some of it at least makes sense.
Prologue
As the body before him dissolved, Harry didn't feel elation, or anything stronger than relief. It was finally over. He stared at the ash drifting in the wind, the last remnants of the only reason for his existence, jumping when a hand touched his shoulder.
“Harry?” It was Hermione, who had a strangely understanding look on her face.
“It's done,” he said quietly, slipping his wand back up his sleeve, the Elder Wand clutched tightly in his left hand. Hermione's hand on his shoulder tightened, and he smiled wanly, turning to lead the way back inside the castle. The Battle may be over, but there was still so much to do. He felt like nothing had really been done, and there was too much ahead. But for now, it was time to mourn, and to celebrate.
Two Months Later
“Harry, time to get up,” he heard, and covered his head with the pillow. The pillow was jerked out of his grip by insistent hands, and he grumbled, slowly opening his eyes to see Hermione and Ron looking at him indulgently. He glared at them half-heartedly.
“Too early.”
“Mate, it's nearly ten. You have a meeting at the ICW at noon. Or don't you remember?” Ron looked about as awake as he felt, so he didn't feel so bad, though the redhead had a point. He groaned and sat up, searching for his glasses. His friends chuckled a little, and he threw another, stronger glare at them.
“Harry, breakfast should be ready by the time you're done showering. Come on Ron, let's leave him to it.” Hermione left quickly, dragging Ron behind her, and Harry slowly got going. By the time he made it downstairs, breakfast was indeed ready, though it was more in the form of brunch, since everything was in sandwiches. Harry grabbed one and kissed Hermione on the cheek in thanks before going into the sitting room and picking up the robes Hermione had set out for him.
He glanced at them in slight distaste; they were a dark blue, and shimmery, with a vine pattern at the hem and cuffs, looking more like something Malfoy would wear than something he'd have chosen for himself. However, he knew that it was important that he present himself to the ICW, seeing as how he had just defeated the greatest Dark Lord in centuries. So he put on the robes, finished his sandwich and headed for the meeting place.
The meeting was normal, as far as he knew, at least at first. Witches and wizards from all over the world had gathered together to meet him, and to invite him to join their ranks. At first, he thought about resisting, and he was certain that they knew. So it was no surprise when the youngest of them, who was still much older than him, drew him aside. What she had to say, however, was very surprising.
“Mr. Potter, we're not asking you to join us because you defeated Voldemort. We're asking because of the fact that we need someone to be a liaison to the Muggle World, and with your connections, no matter how minor, you could be that for us. The rest of us, including me, have lost touch with the Muggle World, and so it would be horribly impractical, especially since we tend to take our liaisons much more seriously than your Ministry. Please, Mr. Potter, consider our offer. It would give you a purpose, something I'm sure that you will be searching for, if you haven't started already.”
“I... Muggles?”
“They just ended two wars themselves, which I'm sad to say resulted in some rather horrendous catastrophes, from what I've heard. It's time that they know about us, so that our Worlds can help each other in the rebuilding process.”
“... How long do I have to decide?”
“You have a month before we need your definitive answer, so you'll have time to discuss it with your family and friends. I'm sorry that we have to put this on you, barely an adult, but I at least believe that you're our best hope for this.”
“I'm not a politician,” he warned, even as he turned the idea over in his mind.
“We don't need a politician, Mr. Potter. We need someone who can give us the results we need. The Muggle World is more likely to listen to a younger person, for a lot of the people who fought in their wars are around your age. Like I said, think it over. We'll reconvene here in a month's time. Rest assured though, Mr. Potter, you are in no way being forced. Should you decide not to do it, we'll find someone else.” That actually did reassure him, since for most of his life he'd been forced into doing one thing or another.
“Thank you, Ma'am. I'll see you in a month?”
“We'll notify you of the time, Mr. Potter.” He sighed and left the clearing, feeling a little weight lift off of his shoulders. She was right; he'd been feeling out of sorts without something to do, and this could be the break that he needed, something to take his mind off all the deaths he'd witnessed and caused. It would also get him out of reach of the Ministry, who were being increasingly annoying in their attempts to snare him into a position in the government.
After a lot of discussion with Ron and Hermione, as well as the rest of the Weasleys, he still wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do, but this position was his best hope at being useful, and possibly doing some good in the world, without having to kill. So when he returned to the ICW, he gave his answer: yes. And so he then became Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, Defeater-of-Voldemort, and Liaison to the Preventers on behalf of the International Confederation of Wizards. Honestly, he'd have liked to leave the first two off, but that was something that couldn't be helped.
Author: bandearg_rois
Fandom: Harry Potter/Gundam Wing
Warning: Slash, at least later on
Summary: A Journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. For Harry, however, that step is quite a bit larger than others. And sometimes, that step could be impossible without help.
Author's Note: I started a storyline last night, and this was supposed to be that story, however it morphed on me, into this. I hope some of it at least makes sense.
Prologue
As the body before him dissolved, Harry didn't feel elation, or anything stronger than relief. It was finally over. He stared at the ash drifting in the wind, the last remnants of the only reason for his existence, jumping when a hand touched his shoulder.
“Harry?” It was Hermione, who had a strangely understanding look on her face.
“It's done,” he said quietly, slipping his wand back up his sleeve, the Elder Wand clutched tightly in his left hand. Hermione's hand on his shoulder tightened, and he smiled wanly, turning to lead the way back inside the castle. The Battle may be over, but there was still so much to do. He felt like nothing had really been done, and there was too much ahead. But for now, it was time to mourn, and to celebrate.
Two Months Later
“Harry, time to get up,” he heard, and covered his head with the pillow. The pillow was jerked out of his grip by insistent hands, and he grumbled, slowly opening his eyes to see Hermione and Ron looking at him indulgently. He glared at them half-heartedly.
“Too early.”
“Mate, it's nearly ten. You have a meeting at the ICW at noon. Or don't you remember?” Ron looked about as awake as he felt, so he didn't feel so bad, though the redhead had a point. He groaned and sat up, searching for his glasses. His friends chuckled a little, and he threw another, stronger glare at them.
“Harry, breakfast should be ready by the time you're done showering. Come on Ron, let's leave him to it.” Hermione left quickly, dragging Ron behind her, and Harry slowly got going. By the time he made it downstairs, breakfast was indeed ready, though it was more in the form of brunch, since everything was in sandwiches. Harry grabbed one and kissed Hermione on the cheek in thanks before going into the sitting room and picking up the robes Hermione had set out for him.
He glanced at them in slight distaste; they were a dark blue, and shimmery, with a vine pattern at the hem and cuffs, looking more like something Malfoy would wear than something he'd have chosen for himself. However, he knew that it was important that he present himself to the ICW, seeing as how he had just defeated the greatest Dark Lord in centuries. So he put on the robes, finished his sandwich and headed for the meeting place.
The meeting was normal, as far as he knew, at least at first. Witches and wizards from all over the world had gathered together to meet him, and to invite him to join their ranks. At first, he thought about resisting, and he was certain that they knew. So it was no surprise when the youngest of them, who was still much older than him, drew him aside. What she had to say, however, was very surprising.
“Mr. Potter, we're not asking you to join us because you defeated Voldemort. We're asking because of the fact that we need someone to be a liaison to the Muggle World, and with your connections, no matter how minor, you could be that for us. The rest of us, including me, have lost touch with the Muggle World, and so it would be horribly impractical, especially since we tend to take our liaisons much more seriously than your Ministry. Please, Mr. Potter, consider our offer. It would give you a purpose, something I'm sure that you will be searching for, if you haven't started already.”
“I... Muggles?”
“They just ended two wars themselves, which I'm sad to say resulted in some rather horrendous catastrophes, from what I've heard. It's time that they know about us, so that our Worlds can help each other in the rebuilding process.”
“... How long do I have to decide?”
“You have a month before we need your definitive answer, so you'll have time to discuss it with your family and friends. I'm sorry that we have to put this on you, barely an adult, but I at least believe that you're our best hope for this.”
“I'm not a politician,” he warned, even as he turned the idea over in his mind.
“We don't need a politician, Mr. Potter. We need someone who can give us the results we need. The Muggle World is more likely to listen to a younger person, for a lot of the people who fought in their wars are around your age. Like I said, think it over. We'll reconvene here in a month's time. Rest assured though, Mr. Potter, you are in no way being forced. Should you decide not to do it, we'll find someone else.” That actually did reassure him, since for most of his life he'd been forced into doing one thing or another.
“Thank you, Ma'am. I'll see you in a month?”
“We'll notify you of the time, Mr. Potter.” He sighed and left the clearing, feeling a little weight lift off of his shoulders. She was right; he'd been feeling out of sorts without something to do, and this could be the break that he needed, something to take his mind off all the deaths he'd witnessed and caused. It would also get him out of reach of the Ministry, who were being increasingly annoying in their attempts to snare him into a position in the government.
After a lot of discussion with Ron and Hermione, as well as the rest of the Weasleys, he still wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do, but this position was his best hope at being useful, and possibly doing some good in the world, without having to kill. So when he returned to the ICW, he gave his answer: yes. And so he then became Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, Defeater-of-Voldemort, and Liaison to the Preventers on behalf of the International Confederation of Wizards. Honestly, he'd have liked to leave the first two off, but that was something that couldn't be helped.